


To Be Found, and Disgraced

by HarbingerofSad



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Abandoned Child, Aftermath of Violence, Alternate Universe, Blaze - Freeform, Blaze Hybrid Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Blaze Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Cute romance, Evil, Falling In Love, Fluff, Gods, Humans Suck, Hurt Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Hurt/Comfort, King Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentions of kidnapping, Nether, Nether-boys pog!!!, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Canon Compliant, Phil convinces them to go to the overworld tho, Piglin Hybrid Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Piglin Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Sapnap is a disgrace, Techno leads the piglins, The Nether is alive :), Unhappy Technoblade, but nothing happens, endermen, im sorry :(, light references of rape, phantoms, piglins, they not doing great :(
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:15:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29936037
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HarbingerofSad/pseuds/HarbingerofSad
Summary: The nether was… vast. Empty, and burning. If you weren't Nether-Born, too much time in the realm was said to set your soul aflame, people who spent lots of time there didn't usually return the same. The monsters in the overworld were nothing compared to the horrors of the underworld. People couldn't traverse the land without threat, no one could feel safe in the hellish land.The Nether itself, the Mother of all Nether beings, had granted the piglins life, homes, and a King with the ability to communicate with any living thing. Then, She wronged them, killing an innocent child and its parents, and so they abandoned her. She left, and they lived on their own. SImilar to them, the Blazes lived without Her influence and evolved past what She created. They lived in bastions, and abandoned fortresses, and out of both communities, hybrid children emerged. In one, the child is a disgrace, and abandoned. The other, praised and made into a new King, but isolated. Not given contact with any other living thing.They find companionship within each other, but the Nether is a dangerous thing, even to its natural inhabitants. They can't survive on their own, isolated, alone. Maybe they can survive together.
Relationships: (i know alright listen), Sapnap/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 26





	To Be Found, and Disgraced

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter has nothing to do with the pair at all, it's just my headcanons for the development of the world, basically. You could skip, but references made in the second chapter may be confusing. 
> 
> I should say I don't ship these people in real life, and in canon lore I don't ship them at all, i just like the idea of my version of their characters together. Plus, nether hybrid boys go brr?
> 
> Anyway! Enjoy! Lemme know what you think?

The nether was… vast. Vast, and empty, and burning. Not literally empty, there were plenty of living things, but literally burning. If you weren't Nether-Born, too much time in the realm was said to set your soul aflame. This wasn't a proven theory, there wasn't a way to prove your soul had been burnt into ash, but people who spent lots of time there didn't usually return the same. If you went with a group, the chances were high that you’d lose someone along the way, and there's no way an experience like that doesnt change you. If you go alone, it's a lot harder to reconcile the things you see. There's no one around to make sure you aren't going crazy and the things you see are actually there. Endermen are the only beings who may travel through all three dimensions, unharmed. 

They have slimes in the overworld. Large, carnivorous almost-solid beings, they would find you in large dark spaces and creep slowly after you until you were away. You could try and fight it, but the large form would multiply itself when attacked. Fighting them led to having a swarm of confusing and determined creatures chasing after you, out-numbering you greatly. In the nether, a similar creature exists. Only this one is filled with magma. Burning hot, leaking fire and lava from cracks in its skin, burning you if you don't run away fast enough. These aren't only carnivorous, chasing you down to kill you and do who-knows-what with your dead body, they were looking to melt your flesh and bones. It’s said that no one will know how many humans have fallen to these magma-filled creatures, since they don't leave anything behind. You are melted in the heat, your weapons and armour turned to liquid, and what's left of you is devoured by the ground, soaked into it like a sponge. 

The overworld has skeletons, and zombies. They are rumoured to be what's left of humans when their soul isn't released into the afterlife. Their body’s are reanimated into mobs of creatures looking to exact revenge on anyone who didn't release them to the afterlife when they had a chance, revenge for damning them to a hellish experience left roaming the earth until they are killed a second time. This time, a brutal and violent death. The Nether has skeletons as well, but these ones weren't exacting revenge, they were fighting for the sake of blood. They had a nickname in the overworld, Wither Skeletons. Wither Skeletons had an ability that would leave your body rotting away, withering away, as you walked. If they managed to hit you once you would feel your flash and bones stripping itself away from you, worse than any poison. They all carried swords covered in withered flesh from their last victims, giving the swords the same black and sooty appearance as the skeletons themselves. The rumour is that these wither skeletons originate from the most evil people in the overworld. Where innocent souls may return as skeletons, evil people are returned as wither skeletons, their bones already stained with the remains of the souls of people they hurt in life. Murderers, molesters, thieves. They stain their skeletons black, are damned to hell, and then spend their afterlife staining their swords as well. 

The nether had Ghasts, according to one person. Flying, ghastly things, hovering over the world to deafen travelers with a piercing cry, spitting fire and leaving acidic tears. Their calls were heard from miles away, they flew fast and you would hear them before you could see them. Fire would be raining from the sky and you would have no way of knowing where it was coming from until it was too late. Your ears would ring from their high-pitched screaming, bursting your ear drums. You’d be spinning, trying desperately to locate the huge, white being. Surely you could see them easily? They were huge, larger than any other living creature, a stark white contrasting the natural red of the Nether, but somehow, they would remain hidden. You would be hit from seemingly every direction, you may start running only to realize you ran right into it. The last thing you’d see is their piercing red eyes, filled with sorrow, grief, and fury. It’s mouth would open, large and black, its long tentacle-like arms shifting as it propelled itself forward, closer to you. A fireball, shot towards you, destroying the ground beneath you if you dodged in time. But only one person has ever dodged a second shot. The only traveler to tell tales of these beats, one traveler who called himself Philza. No one has ever verified his stories, many believe him to be a crazed idiot, who damned his own mind to the Nether after travelling it one too many times. He strayed beneath the overworld for a few hours too many. There are not many who believe his tales, no one can imagine such a horrible creature exists, and it's easier for people to sleep at night when they don't believe. To any that ask him, Philza insists that it is the truth. “How can magma creatures, Blazes, Wither Skeletons exist, but a ghast is what you refuse to admit is real?” There are large areas of people who believe that Philza is a disgrace, no matter how legendary his quests seem, he is only a lowly liar, seeking glory he doesnt deserve. It’s not often that he is seen anymore, these days. 

The Blazes were creatures of fire. They protected large, mysterious fortresses and how they were alive was something perhaps forever unknown. They didn't have a core, no place for a heart, or a stomach. They had no arms, no legs, no real mouths or eyes. They had only a head, which was surrounded by rods of red-hot flame. No one could get close to them. Trying resulted in balls of fire and heat being thrown at you, its head turning blue with the sheer strength of its own blaze. The ground beneath your feet, walls of weird brick would catch fire, seemingly controlled by these creatures, until you fled. They would leave you no choice but to run, escaping the flaming walls of the fortress. People left insisting that the fortress was alive, the grund pulsated with the Blaze’s fire, the walls swelled and shrunk until no longer disturbed by foreign presences. Like the magma creatures, the Blaze would melt your armour and your weapons before you could injure one. No one had made it all the way into a fortress, past these Blazes. Maybe no one ever would. 

The Nether was filled with danger, with heat, lava and beings that thrived in its dangerous clutches. Mostly, people who traverse the lands would see seas of lava, surrounded by floors and walls and ceilings of strange red rock. People called it Netherrack, assumed it was rock, but it wasn't. If anything, it was a soil. It nurtured the life of Nether-Born creatures, fed life into beings who shouldn't exist. It was the essence of hell. If anyone paid attention, they would notice that it wasn't still, it was moving, shifting, redefining itself, always. It wasn't hard, or solid, it was malleable. You could pick it up and shift it into a new shape, before it would take hold and reshape itself into something else. No one noticed, people were more focused on surviving the planes to categorize its elements, but the Netherrack was the thing that created life in hell. 

Its first creations were the magma creatures, the ghasts, the wither skeletons. Then it created diversity in its nature. Red and blue biomes, biomes that seemed to replicate the trees and the grass found naturally in the overworld. There were trees, mushrooms, vines. All of which were unique to the underworld, each had their own properties. The vines moved slowly, but if you sat still for too long, the vine would grow and grow until it had enough length to circle and entrap you, like a snake. It would drag you, trapped, unable to move, into the ground it grew from. This is one way the Netherrack fed itself. The trees grew large blue or red canopies, growing up before falling and growing down. The trees were filled with shroomlights, something seemingly similar to the glowing stone that grows from the roof of the Nether, but it was in fact the tree's fruit. The fruit was poisonous to anything not Nether-Born. It was also used to spark curiosity to any new travelers. Anyone who went to inspect the glowing fruit would be caught unawares when the branches of the canopy grew downwards, into the ground surrounding you. The branches wuld root there, strong, immovable. You’d be trapped, when you did finally notice, and the fruits would release a poisonous gas which would kill you, and again the Netherrack would feed. The rooted branches would only then separate from its origin tree, and start their own growth of branches and fruit. The forests were quickly spread. The mushrooms were only poisonous when again, consumed by overworlders. Despite what the overworld may think, the Netherrack was a gracious Mother to Her own. The overworlders were not Hers, they were intruders, disgusting and horrifying sinners who sought to take Her world and make it their own. She could not allow that. 

No one knew, but She learned from the overworld. Humans began showing up in the overworld, along with them spawned chickens and cows and sheep. And pigs. And all along, She watched them from the ground beneath their feet. Their population grew, and humans began to seek superiority and power that they didn't have. They’d slaughter the animals among them, killing sheep for wool, cows and chickens and pigs for their meat. Disgusting, She thought. Revolting creatures, who didn't deserve all they had been given. They had hearts, and souls, and didn't use them. Any consideration, or kindness they may have had was quickly bred out of them, darkness seeping into their hearts instead. They lived only to selfishly care for their own souls, wanting only an assurance that they would survive beyond death, like they shouldn’t only be grateful for the life they already had. She had no part in their making, She would have made them better. More considerate. 

There was a special place in Her soul for the pigs who roamed the world. They were the first creatures to be sought for blood sacrifice from the humans. She looked into their eyes, into their innocent and curious souls, and felt compassion for them. She didn't make the humans, they were awful, selfish creatures. She could do better. She would do better, and she’d look at the pigs for guidance. For they were such lovely creatures. 

She spent lots of time on Her first real creations. She loved Her blazes, and skeletons, and ghasts. But they aren't sentient, they were Her amazing creatures, and She would adamantly deny that they were not intelligent, but they couldn't have individual thoughts. She wanted Her piglins to have the ability to create, to grow out of want rather than need, She wanted them to have capacity for kindness, for empathy. She spent decades creating these creatures. While the humans were learning to farm and to mine, She was learning to create independent thought. And She did, at first. They were lovely, Her piglins. They lived in peace with all Her other children, they built fortresses to live in and She sent Her blazes to keep them company. Her piglins were horribly receptive to cold, one slightly less-hot breeze could send dozens of piglins into horrible illness. It was okay though, She helped them recover, and the blazes had so much heat to spare, they warmed the walls the piglins lived in. They were happy, and everything was well, so again She spent some time in the overworld. The humans had abandoned transient lifestyles, they were building communities to live in, farms to provide them food. She prided Herself that Her piglins learned to build homes before the humans did, and the piglins' fortresses were much more advanced than the wooden shacks humans would build. The farms gave Her pause, though. Humans were starting to rely more on their crops than the lives of their cows and pigs. Were they again learning kindness? Did they have the capacity to improve? This thought left Her pondering for many years, until the humans learned to travel to Her realm.

Never before had a human traversed Her land, and it made Her anxious. Her children could feel Her trepidation, and they reacted with cautious hostility. The first portal was opened by a group of three men, and She nervously sent one of each breed of Her children to greet them, a piglin leading the group. The blaze hovered by its closest companions shoulder nervously, and the magma cubes bounced with anxiety, and She did Her best to sooth them all. She was hopeful they would see Her children and rejoice at life before undiscovered. She had been wrong to hope. The humans saw Her children, and backed quickly back through the portal. Her children stood in confusion, Her piglin specifically asking his Mother what had happened. She barely had time to express Her own confusion when the humans leapt back through the portal, now clad in armour and bearing swords and shields, aimed at Her children. She cried out in fear, but the humans had already begun attacking, Her piglin son forced to protect his companions and leap into battle. He succeeded against them, not one of Her other children were harmed, but he had taken several life-threatening hits during the fight. He lay, dying in front of the now abandoned portal, and She could do nothing but cry in anguish. Her ghast mirrored Her cries, always the creature that most felt what She did, and Her blaze looked on, confused and lost. She sent the blaze back home, and sent along with it the message of their fallen brother. They grieved, mourned their loss, and She vowed to try to better protect Her children. 

She tried Her best, creating biomes that would defend them against humans, and the ghasts mirrored Her goals, vowing to attack humans that got too close to a fortress. She failed. The humans had generated hundreds, thousands of portals, all around the overworld to coordinate an attack on Her children. There were too many of them, too many for Her to take care of Herself. They attacked each and every fortress in Her realm, killing as many blaze and piglin they could along the way. She couldn’t stop them. Eventually they retreated, believing their victory to have been won, and Her piglin were scattered around their world. Their companions, the Blaze, forced to protect empty fortresses filled only with terrible memories. Their homes had been lost, ravaged by the horrible beings called humans, and their grief was overwhelming. She had made them to feel, to think, to create. And now, they felt the loss of their creation. They had lost everything they held dear, and each one of them had their soul ripped apart in their mourning. Their skin rotted, falling apart off of their skulls, and they lost the will to create. None of them ever tried again to rebuild what they lost, they wandered the Nether confused, and sad, and they could no longer feel anything beyond their grief. She mourned with them, but first, She was filled with anger. She returned again to the overworld, this time as a flying monster, and the humans called Her Phantom. It was not Her name, but they didn't deserve to utter the true syllables. She flew around the world, larger than anything they had seen before, larger than twenty of the horses they enslaved and destroyed every portal She could find. They put them on pedestals, made them into structures to be praised, used them to remember their supposed victory upon the underworld. She resented these horrible creatures, their greed, their disdain for all Her children. They were pests, and they deserved nothing. She destroyed every portal but She left openings in the fabric between their world for terror and fear to get through. She would terrorize this land, like they terrorized Hers. She sent replicas of the form She took, smaller things in groups of three to follow and attack any human left awake for too long. They would be attacked, and their experiences shaken off as the ramblings of sleep deprivation. She sent Her poison into spiders deep in their caves, a poison She made to hurt those not Nether-Born, and She grew the fear, the hurt, the selfish and disgusting thoughts each human had until they drowned in nightmares of their own making. Only those who truly were innocent survived. She soon left, to feel Her grief, but Her influence grew between worlds. Her existence spread around the abandoned and destroyed portals, covering the ground around them in Her lively red. She would be back in the overworld, nothing could stop it. 

When She returned home Her grief was huge, insurmountable. Out of Her grief came the cold that Her piglins had so much hated. New biomes came into existence, ones of cold grey and spikes of dead life, ash coated the air and breathing was near impossible. Nothing lived there. 

She needed something to do with the human souls She had collected during the war, and She longed to remember fire again. Fire and heat was comforting, made you feel alive, and at home. She had lost touch with the fre, but She was determined to regain its warmth. She created acres of land covered in sand, sand that trapped the souls of the humans. It was not so creatively dubbed “soul-sand.” Among the wastelands burst flame of blue, a kind of fire that could only thrive off the remains of human souls, and She felt bitter satisfaction at looking across the lands and knowing that the only remains of the humans who did this to Her world were burning into ash, and would be for eternity. 

She never fully recovered from Her grief, She would never trust humans again and She poured all Her bitter feelings into the nature She created to trap them, but She again felt the need to create. Her piglins roamed the world still, now unprotected,and She gifted each one a golden sword, and the instincts to attack anyone not donning gold. She still loved Her children, but She believed She could build a race who the humans couldn't defeat. Her old piglins were now referred to as ‘zombified piglins’ and She still felt Her love for the innocent creatures in the overworld, so She created a new breed of piglin. These ones were stronger, and had two types among them. The first were piglins who would live in bastions She created to be indestructible. They were walls of black and gold surrounding the center, where She lay a courtyard for them to live and converse in. She wanted them to be a united family, a group who looked after one another. The second type were Her piglin brutes. The name was misleading, as She intended. Her piglins were strong, but the brutes stronger. They had amazing regenerative powers, They moved and struck with a force before unseen, and they were accompanied by large, loyal hoglins. Hoglins moved alongside Her brutes, and the group of them scoured the land for invaders. The humans had grown more and more comfortable traversing Her planes, now several of them had reopened portals trying to seek the riches that lay within. She quickly took to poisoning their minds, creating the nightmares She had inflicted not that long ago and intensifying them, placing them in the humans minds. They would grow insane when around Her presence for too long, their mind raving and working against them. What humans She couldn't get to were taken care of by Her new children, and fed back into her. She loved Her new children, and they got along with each other as well as all Her other children. 

They were grateful, and only asked Her for one thing. “May we have a leader?” They asked Her one day, “Someone to guide our need for growth, and to help us build structure among us?” This seemed an innocent, although strange request. She has seen what hierarchy and power did to humans, but She was determined that Her piglins were superior in every way to the humans. So She made for them a King. A King who was second only to her, and who ruled over every other piglin and brute who resided in his bastion. As a treat, She also gave unto the King the ability to communicate with every creature alive, be it Blaze, Enderman, or Human. The Humans didn't deserve to be talked to by Her piglins, but Her piglins deserved the ability to understand for themselves that Humans were selfish and awful creatures. Their King, after meeting one, could tell them so. 

Something She never considered, was that upon meeting someone who could understand them, some rare humans became remarkably less violent. From a King who could understand others, a hybrid piglin-human emerged in Her bastion. She felt sick, such a horrible thing occurred under Her watch, and She could only believe it was the humans fault that a piglin had been so tempted. She killed the human, the hybrid, and the old King. This was the first time they had seen their Mother kill someone they perceived as innocent. They had a strong belief system, rules set in place and followed for centuries, someone who broke those rules was given a fair punishment, and then forgiven. Killing was only acceptable when under the threat of more loss of life, if the threat couldn't be otherwise contained. The human and the child had done nothing except enter their home, but had done so under permission from their King, whom they had an instinctual adoration for. Their Mother had killed a child, and their King. To them, She had broken their rules, and She couldn't be contained. She was now a threat to them. They renounced, disowned, threw away their Mother, and She did not wish to harm them, and could do nothing. She had helped them develop their beliefs, She knew they could not be influenced without manipulation, and She was not willing to manipulate Her children. She was left heartbroken, grieving again the loss of a great many of Her children. 

The loss of Her influence made the piglins harder, less compassionate. Still they wouldn't talk to her, so She had to continue doing nothing. She watched as brutes came to trust nothing but themselves, rarely even interacting with the piglins they still protected. The only things they still relied on were the hoglins who remained by their side. 

They couldn't know, but not allowing Her to interact with them caused a retreat of Her influence everywhere, the longer She was disowned from them the less influence She had. Her plants still fed her, but nothing else could listen to Her demands. The Blaze grew sentience, somehow. They thought for themselves, made the fortress into their homes, and they evolved. They had eyes now, and mouths, and emotions, thoughts. They were nothing like the quiet and faithful companions She had made for the piglins of old. The only things that remained were their ties to the fortress, and that their souls were borne of fire. The last thing She ever created were the striders. She had never thought to make a creature live off the lava She loved. The striders fed off its warmth, used it and the grass of Her red and blue biomes to grow, and they grew cold when out of the lakes and seas. For this reason, they reminded Her of Her first piglins, the ones who so hated the cold that She introduced companions, things to stay by your side and help you. The striders lived in families, mothers and fathers with their children, children with their brothers, sisters and cousins. She did this so that She could see children adoring their mother, like Her children had once adored her. 

She hadn't realized, but She was growing old, and tired. Each new creation came from Her very own life source, and She soon understood that each one of Her children were using the same life source She was. She was, however, using the largest amount of it, since Her presence was much larger than any others. If She continued living, continued creating, She would be shortening the amount of time Her children had to live. If She continued living they would have a hundred more millennia to live, but She wished for them to have eons. She could not continue living in the form She had now. She would rest, allowing their source of life to flow into them, Her children, and not her. Again, She felt grief. Her children had renounced her, would not listen to her, and now She would be removing herself from their world. If they ever decided to look for Her again, she’d be gone. She had no way to tell them that She still loved them, and always would. Or maybe they would forget her, Her existence would fade into legend, myth. They would credit some other god for their lives and wouldn't ever think of Her again. Oh, it was selfish, but She hoped they would remember Her. She wanted to be thought of, if only in passing. 

Oh, how She loved them, with Her whole, aching soul. She was glad She made Her piglins resemble the pigs of the overworld. They were the only overworld creature She could truly love, for they were such lovely creatures. Her piglins, the brutes, the zombified piglin, they were all as much or even more wonderful than the small pink animal. Oh, She hoped She would someday be able to wake and see what Her creations become. 

She lay quietly over Her soul-sand wastelands. They came into being out of Her grief, and with Her grief now, the fiery plains seemed only appropriate. Her ribs, large and white and mad of bone, rest against the sand, left to be found by anyone who dared traverse the freezing lands. There, She lay, for the rest of time. She would not wake again, always knowing that Her selfish need would sap decades off Her children's lives, and unlike humans, She would not give into temptation.

**Author's Note:**

> I KNOW OKAY rare-pair yes yes but like. 
> 
> Techno and Sapnap are my favourites so? Gay? 
> 
> What did you people think about the god of the Nether being a woman? Women Day pog! Also, the Nether being sentient? Gimme your thoughts! I love replying to people! Let's have a conversation!


End file.
